


Human on My Faithless Arm

by Niki



Series: Vampire AU [3]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Community: hc_bingo, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niki/pseuds/Niki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Let me transform you. Please."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human on My Faithless Arm

**Author's Note:**

> For hc_bingo prompt "substance addiction"
> 
> Rushed and unbetaed to meet the deadline

“Let me transform you. Please.”

“Lad...”

“Please.”

James knows he shouldn't do it, shouldn't put this pressure on Robbie like this, not at the moment, not after the day they've had, not after he's just got him back.

“James,” Robbie says, but his voice is not as scolding as he expected. “Not out of fear.”

“But...”

“Please, think your proposition through, when you're not panicking. And then we'll talk. Now... I'm dirty and exhausted. I'm going to take a shower, then I'm going to bed, and you are going to hold me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

\- - -

So James thinks about it. 

If being a vampire is not a bad thing, if it is not a curse but a blessing – why wouldn't Robbie want it for himself? Why shouldn't he want it for the other man? Robbie wouldn't be so fragile then, so breakable, so... human.

James doesn't think he's changed, not who he is, just what he can do, and what he must do to survive. 

The blood. 

If Robbie transforms... he'll never get to taste his blood again. The thought is almost enough to make him forget about the whole thing. Never to have that sweet, intoxicating taste on his tongue, never to feel that warm flesh under his teeth?

It does make him think better of it, for a day, until he remembers Laura's face, back when he first transformed, and her words. An addict. 

He knows he needs blood to survive. He can survive on any blood, animal, human, but nothing else gives him the thrill Robbie's blood gives him. 

But... is it essential for his survival? No. 

No, but he craves it, craves the way it feels like he once craved cigarettes, and this is what he feared, that Robbie would become like a drug to him, a source of sustenance instead of a person, but... that's not quite true, either. 

He loves him, loves his voice, his mind, his sense of humour, his body, the way he feels when they are together, the way his own mind is stimulated by his, the way his body feels when they are together... So it's not just his blood. And he would have all the other things even if – when – Robbie joins him.

And, assuming he'll “take to it” better than his old boss, Morse, he'll be healthier, more durable, live longer... Maybe they won't have an eternity, but they would have more years together, and isn't that worth anything?

But... he'd never get to sink his fangs into that lovely, warm flesh, would lose the beautiful sound of his heartbeat forever. 

But wasn't he in danger of just that when the man was kidnapped? If they hadn't found him in time he would have ended up as another bound corpse in the field, and James would have had to live without him, without his companionship, his blood, his heartbeat, for the rest of his unnatural life and...

He just keeps going in circles, every free moment spent in agonising thoughts, and Robbie lets him. They work, they eat, they come home, and the older man never says anything about his preoccupation. He keeps lacing his food with blood, the stored vials for now, he lost enough blood thanks to the gash in his head for James to accept any other form of donation.

At night he holds Robbie close while he sleeps, ear against his heart, feeling the heat of his skin, losing himself in the sound of the coursing blood, and tries to learn to live without it. Without the heat, the blood, the sound.

Would the trade off be so bad? Robbie would be safe. No mere bullet could ever threaten him again. 

It's not until the third day he thinks about what Robbie might want. He has never even suggested he wants to join James, never sounded bitter about the fact Morse never offered.

He tries to imagine Robbie as a vampire. His skin even paler, his warmth gone, his pulse missing, and it scares him, imagining him so like a corpse. He tries to picture him with fangs, feeding... Feeding off whom? 

Who would be that first perfect taste of blood for him? Laura?

The possessive feeling shocks James with its strength. He doesn't want Robbie to drink off anyone but him. But he has no blood to feed him. He can't do it, he can't live with it, he can't...

He sounds so damn selfish when he thinks like that. It shouldn't be about what _he_ loses, what he feels, it should be about what is best for Robbie. 

Robbie enjoys James feeding off him, too. It's intense, like sex, usually a part of sex for them, and... and he'd never have that again. He would never ever bite anyone who wasn't James, even through the haze of jealousy he does know that. There would never be anyone else.

But is he just projecting? He is addicted to the feel and taste, so Robbie must be, too? 

Is he going about this all the wrong way?

“What do you want?” he asks, on the evening of the fourth day, holding Robbie close in their bed, knowing from his breathing he's not asleep yet. 

“I want to be with you,” Robbie says, simply.

“You always will. But... I want you safe.”

“I have you to keep me safe,” Robbie says, non-committally. 

“Did you ever... When you were working with Morse, did you ever want to become like him?”

“What, old and bitter and brilliant?”

“Robbie.”

“A vampire, then. No. I didn't want to have to explain it to Val and the kids.”

“But now...”

“Now... I'm an old man, James. I have lived my life as a regular human, and I am perfectly content to die as a regular human.”

“And I love you as a human,” James says, never bothering with Robbie's insistence that he is still human, just not the “regular” kind. He is something other, he can live with that. He made his peace with it months ago. “But is it selfish of me to want to keep you as you are?”

“Selfish?”

“Am I just... an addict?” He's always known he has an addictive personality. Church, cigarettes, all his hobbies turning into obsessions... all his relationships turning too serious, too soon.

“What makes you say that?”

“I vowed to never view you as food, but...”

“But you still like my blood.”

“Like? I crave it, like a drug.”

“And yet you had no problems going without when I was in the hospital.”

“I didn't derive much pleasure from the substitutions.”

“But you never went for the stash you knew Laura had. You never broke into the hospital for a quick drink, not even a quick nibble when you were visiting.”

“I'd never risk your health like that!”

“No, you wouldn't. Do you know many addicts who'd have control like that?”

James thinks about it, thinks about all the times he tried to quit smoking but always failed, always gave in to the easy access to cigarettes. 

“You... okay, you have a point,” he admits, in the end. “It's just... Laura said...”

“A lot of things, I'm sure. She had a lot to say about Morse, too, back in the day.”

“She called me an addict.”

“Yet she provided you with her own blood when she noticed you needed more than the animal blood could give you. Do you really think she would have been as accommodating if it was morphine you craved?”

Huh. 

“Do you want to be a vampire?” he asks, all the other questions finally unimportant. 

“Not really. I don't want the complications. And I know you don't want that, either, not really. I'm not talking about losing your personal blood bank, or any of the other minor details. You crave my humanity even more than my blood. I know you spend your nights here, and I know the book on the bedside table is the same one for the second week in a row. You don't read that slowly. So what do you do in here?”

“Bask,” James admits with a wry smile.

“In...?”

“The sound of your pulse, the rhythm of your heart, yes, I see. I thought it was just because I am utterly and madly in love with you. But... yes. I think you're right.”

“And... you're not afraid anymore.”

“Specifically, no. In general sense... always.”

“I will die one day, lad. Humans do. And I am old.”

“And I'll deal with that when I have to. Not now.”

“I'm not sleepy anymore,” Robbie says with a smile. “And it's been days, and my wound is all closed, so...”

“Could you be trying to proposition a vampire, Robbie?”

“Trying? I thought I was.”

James turns and nuzzles his neck, feeling the pulse jump under his mouth. His fangs grow, longing to bite into the warm, human, fragile skin, and James knows he'll never let go of the sensation willingly. Fear be damned.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters indistinctly, and bites.


End file.
